As Society Dictates
by That Buggy Girl
Summary: Rescue Bots fic! After a chain reaction of disasters that's kinda sorta maybe Blades' fault, Chase attempts to cheer him up. It doesn't go as badly as one might think.


**Notes:** This takes place after "The Lost Bell" so...possible spoilers for that episode? Not really, though.

* * *

Though it was entirely the fault of the puffin, Blades –naturally- blamed himself.

The entire scenario could have played out differently, of course, but it happened in a split second, so fast no one had time to think.

The puffin went winging its way directly through the high-strung helicopter's flight path, lazy and hrooping in its weird, guttural way. It hardly seemed concerned with the oncoming aircraft, but Blades had seen it –and yelped- losing altitude as he dropped to avoid hitting the bird.

At the same moment, Dani –who had lurched in her seat at the sudden drop- jerked his cyclic stick, trying to regain control because Blades clearly was not capable of doing so himself at the time. They had already been flying low; it was a dreary, cloudy day and a certain some one was hesitant to go very high – Every one else was driving not far below and Blades had a large cement road barrier dangling from his winch hook.

It was a classic recipe for disaster and Dani decidedly did _not_ like to be the cause of disaster.

It was, unfortunately, entirely too late to stop the chain of events set in motion by the puffin.

When Blades dipped down, he went careening to the side, the winch and its load swinging beneath him. The cable swung like a pendulum, swooping forwards and then snapping back, jerking the helicopter and his passenger along for the ride.

The cement block swung straight into Boulder's blade, causing several of the teeth to crumple. The bulldozer tried to brake as gently as possible upon impact. He stopped; Graham kept moving, the young man kept relatively safe by the fact that he diligently buckled his seatbelt anytime he entered a vehicle, robot or otherwise.

He'd probably have a headache later, anyway.

Behind them, Heatwave swerved, caught off guard by the sudden commotion directly in front of him. It had rained earlier and the road was slick – It only took one minute miscalculation and the team's leader found himself in a muddy ditch on the side of the road, wheels spinning ineffectively while Kade pounded on the steering wheel and let loose a curse that probably would have made his father's mustache curl.

Chase had been in the rear, traveling a safe distance from Heatwave's bumper and well within the acceptable speed limit. He had plenty of time to stop himself, but not prevent any of the damage to his comrades.

It all happened in a matter of seconds –that at the time felt like an eternity- but Chase managed to catch a glimpse of the puffin as it propelled itself away, its laugh-like call echoing behind it and drowned out by Blades' devastated cries of "I'm sorry; I'm sorry; I'm sorry!"

The repair mission had been completed; the damage to the crew had been –for the most part- minimal, save for that to Blades' already fragile self-esteem.

Now, hours later, the weary rescue team was safely back at base, its members scattered throughout the firehouse and bunker.

The chief, knowing most of the damage the team incurred was superficial, had left his older children and the bots to sort themselves out. Cody had a report to write for his world history class and he had promised to help – World history was not the boy's strong suit and homework was often conducive to father-son time.

Graham had vanished upstairs, heading for a bottle of aspirin and his room. He'd paused long enough to pat Blades' leg sympathetically, telling him not to worry about it – though that would hardly stop the young bot from blaming himself. Dani, still high on her own adrenaline, headed out almost immediately after returning home, intent on blowing off some energy in a constructive way, though she never said how.

Kade was simply sulking, openly and unashamed. The fact that no one seemed to care about how humiliated he was by landing in a ditch only made him more grouchy.

His whining had sent Heatwave stomping off, annoyed, carrying a bucket and sponge, and grumbling about how he guessed he'd have to hose himself down. _He_, after all, was the one who actually wound up covered in mud, tire treads full of grit and gravel. What the slag did Kade have to complain about? Nothing. Like usual.

It was around that time that Boulder headed off for a nap in his pod; he had sustained the most physical damage and required some quality time with the stasis pod's repair cycle.

Blades had vanished shortly after Heatwave flat out refused his meek offer to help clean off the offending mud.

And that left Chase standing in the middle of the bunker, cool, collected and watching his teammates scatter.

He was well aware of Blades' location, of course; he always knew where his comrades were. It was a self-appointed job, keeping track of them, but he took it as seriously as he took all jobs.

And he knew why Blades had disappeared; knew that it had simply been too much – The weather, the bothersome shorebird, the accident, the subsequent half-rant, half-lecture from Heatwave, Dani's frustration, Kade's annoyance…Blades was a complex individual, laden with more fears and feelings of inadequacy than Chase could comprehend. His anxiety was prone to getting the best of him and, at times like these, the well-meaning sympathy and teasing criticism of his teammates were equally unwanted.

Though he was well aware of this, Chase still set out in the direction of his friend, intent on setting the record straight. He did not aim to offer sympathy or judgment, simply understanding. While he did not quite understand the broad spectrum of emotions that Blades experienced at a seemingly dizzying pace, he did understand one thing that the others didn't.

The puffin.

Always true to his word, Chase had not spoken of the scare with the puffin that had occurred during their brief period time as castaways on the thus unidentified island prior to the Founders' Day ceremony. He knew better than to think that Blades had forgotten about it, but thought perhaps the younger bot had gotten over it, now that he knew that a puffin was not a monster.

Apparently, he hadn't.

And Chase suspected that the real reason Blades was so upset about the day's misadventure had less to do with his own clumsy flying and more to do with his embarrassment at admitting the puffin had scared him. Add that to the healthy dose of guilt he experienced when anything went wrong that may have even remotely been his fault…

It added up to one very unhappy helicopter huddled in a corner, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them.

Chase simply looked down at him for a moment, quiet and unblinking.

"Are you going to give me a lecture too, Chase?" Blades didn't look up; his voice was muffled by his arms. It wouldn't have made a difference if he had, though. He clearly sounded miserable. "About not flying properly or something?"

"…No." The question did give him pause, but Chase recovered swiftly. "As an emergency vehicle, you were privileged to the right of way, though I doubt the offending shorebird was aware of that."

Blades, face still hidden, twitched a little in something that may have been a choked laugh, may have been a sob. Chase wasn't quite sure; he'd never been adept at reading body language. Still, he wasn't being told to go away, and that was encouraging.

"It is not as if you intended for any of the day's mishaps to occur," He continued, "and I do not believe you should be blaming yourself for circumstances beyond your control."

"But it _was_ my fault!" The answer wasn't quite a wail, but it was something close. Blades looked up, stricken, tucking his knees in even closer. "I shouldn't've been scared by a tiny little bird, especially one that I know isn't scary or dangerous!" And yet he was, anyway. Both of them were painfully aware of that and Blades himself didn't know any better how to explain his myriad small, insignificant-yet-persistent fears. "Or I shouldn't've lost control and…I _hurt_ Boulder." Here he sagged again, looking down at his fingers.

"Technically," Chase did blink then, optics flickering, and sat himself -somewhat awkward and stiff- on the floor beside his friend, "_you_ did not injure Boulder. The segment of the construction barrier you were transporting did."

That time, it was a laugh, and Chase was ninety-nine percent certain of it, though he was uncertain if Blades was laughing because he was amused or simply out of some sort of underlying hysteria. Personally, Chase found nothing about the situation funny; he was simply speaking the truth.

"I still feel terrible, though." Blades rested his chin on his knee joints, sighing a little and leaning against the wall. "Even if it was just an accident…I hate when any one gets hurt, especially when it's because of me."

"Perhaps that is something you should tell Boulder." Chase glanced over at him, frowning a little. He knew that predictable Blades would want to go rushing right off an apologize –again- now that the overwhelming guilt was abating somewhat. "…Later. He is still in the midst of repairs."

The younger bot nodded a little, his own features folding down into a frown, a look which was all wrong for him. "I don't know why bad things like that are always happening to me, anyway."

Chase somehow resisted a natural urge to point out that misfortunate things were not always happening to him; nothing bad was happening to him at that moment, after all. It was the kind of silly not-logic that made Blades sometimes annoying and all of the time himself.

"I am unaware of why you suffer misfortunes as well, Blades." He offered instead, though the words seemed inadequate even as he spoke them. He knew the other bot wasn't really expecting an answer, nor was he fishing for sympathy. That wasn't like him; it was more likely that he'd just said whatever came to mind.

There was a moment of silence in which Blades' shoulders slumped and he sighed again, letting his hands fall to his sides. "Guess it's just my luck." He said miserably.

Another silence fell before Chase spoke up again, as serious and solemn as always. "I believe this is the part where I am supposed to offer you a sympathetic embrace." Though it was well out of his comfort zone to suggest such a gesture, he was certain it was the right move – He'd seen enough movies at that point to know that a hug was an acceptable show of compassion when a friend was down.

And besides, Blades liked physical affection; he soaked it up like it was a much needed fuel source.

Blades stared at him for a moment, expression shifting from fretful to confused before he was able to decipher what Chase meant. Then, as understanding dawned, he ducked his head, mumbling down at his hands. "You don't have to…"

"No," Chase agreed seriously, "I don't have to. But I _want_ to." And not just because it would help round things back out to normal, but because it was _Blades_ and seeing him upset and unhappy seemed all wrong.

"…Thanks."

The hug was awkward and stiff and probably –like the original incident with the puffin- would be something never spoken of in the presence of others.

But still…

It helped.

Blades relaxed marginally, some of the tension draining from his frame. He didn't say anything further, or move, or indicate that the hug was in any way less than adequate.

And Chase smiled.


End file.
